


Letting Go

by KDay



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars - TLJ, Star Wars - The Force Awakens
Genre: Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First FanFic-Please Be kind, Fluff and Humor, Force Bond (Star Wars), Idiots in Love, I’ve changed some of the timeline events, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), PWP, Redeemed Ben Solo, Rey Needs A Hug (Star Wars), Romance, Smut, Virgin Rey (Star Wars), poorly written action scenes, well sort of a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KDay/pseuds/KDay
Summary: Some Force-Sensitives have a hard time engaging in sexual pleasure without causing chaos around them with the Force.  Ben helps Rey to let go.**************Note in my timeline the following: Ben didn’t kill Han Solo, a knight named Fassik did; there was never any pursuit of the Resistance in TLJ and no Battle of Crait.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Reylo
Comments: 22
Kudos: 60





	1. Untamable

The whole bedroom is quaking and he wonders if the ship has come across some anomaly to cause the turbulence. Then he feels the bond open. It normally feels like a plant seated in the floor, it's vines making its way upwards, ripping through time and space and blossoming into a doorway connecting the two of them. This time it rips open like a crack in the earth. He's briefly alarmed by this shift in the way the bond presents itself. And then all of those thoughts dissolve when he hears her soft moan.

Rey.

Her sleek from is stretched out on a slim cot. She's wearing a beige sleeveless top that looks like it's a size too small and the only other clothing she has on are matching underpants. Her eyes are closed, but she's sooo not asleep. He sees her pupils darting around under her eyelids, her mouth is open, jaw slack, cheeks flushed. And her right hand is buried in her panties.

It's the most erotic thing he's seen in his life.

And she has no idea he's there.

At first he's frozen, a slave to sight before him. His mouth hanging open, his breath caught in his throat. He might faint. That's right - the Supreme Leader of the First Order might pass out while drooling over the erotic vision of Rey the Jedi pleasuring herself. Is he drooling? He is. This is not good. This is bad. Bad. Bad. Bad.

Panic. He doesn't know what to do. He's not sure if he should wait this out or do. . . something? If he only knew what that something is that he should do. He's a man of action through and through - rarely unsure what course to take. He starts to feel irritation creep in due to the fact that he seems to be in many a situation recently where he doesn't know what to do and she's the common denominator in all of them. And now she's on display in his bedroom touching herself. He thinks he better decide what do while there are still parts of his brain functioning and. . . fuck, he can smell her - the bond has evolved to that point. His nostrils flare taking in the scent of her arousal and another part of his brains short-circuits. This is too much. Too much.

What the fuck should he do? All hands below deck are saying go to her. Communication from the bridge is lacking. This is what she does to him. He imagines himself a Star Destroyer ablaze crashing into a planet. The alluring, unchartered planet Rey - a lush, green earth, the environment untamable, teaming with exotic creatures and her gravitational pull too strong for him to resist. Fuck. He's so fucked.

He decides the best course of action is to do nothing. Nothing but watch her and try to commit as much to memory as possible for use later. And try not to moan. Like she is right now. Or groan. Like she did just now. Or gasp. Like that. Thanks, Rey - all good examples. She spreads her legs wide, her knees move closer to her chest, her back arches slightly, her head falls back, her long neck straining from the motion and her lips press together for a moment while she makes an 'mmmm' noise . Fuck. Fuck. FuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuck. It's now burned in his brain forever that this position helps her to come on her back while her little fingers work furiously on her clit. He silently says a prayer that cataloged info is something he has the opportunity to use in the future.

He's dying to touch himself and in the effort not to, he fists his hands to the point of pain. Can someone break their own fingers this way? He thinks he might find out shortly.

His breathing is now as heavy and ragged as hers. Can she hear him? He can certainly hear her. Her hot little pants becoming louder and more rapid by the second. She's close.

The room starts to shake. She frowns and her little eyebrows knit together. She whines in frustration and the hand tightly wedged in her panties slows. She can't let go. Her emotional connection to the Force too strong and she can't figure out how to sever it. A gift as much as it is a curse. She's afraid she's going to cause the room around her to shatter when she shatters. Or worse, unintentionally hurt someone nearby. So she pushes back, but it's like desperately trying to get your footing when you've fallen on slick ice. A pile of books on her nightstand starts to vibrate and float and another whine of frustration escapes from her mouth.

Most Force-Sensitives don’t struggle with this issue, but It's something he's entirely too familiar with. It took him years to master cutting himself off enough from the Force to feel that pleasure without blowing up everything around him. Setting his eyes on her agonized features, he thinks maybe he can help her without alerting her to his presence. Yes - he can do this for her. He reaches out his hand intending to steady the energy around them, but his focus is distracted by his favorite pillow floating into his line of vision.

Thwwapt!

"Ow! Fuck!"

His datapad hits him in the back of the head.

All things afloat crash to the ground. Her eyes open immediately and focus on him and she freezes like a bantha caught in a speeder's headlights.

And they just stare at each other for what seems like eternity.


	2. An Erotic Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2nd Chapter. Thanks so much for all the positive feedback on the first!

Desire. Longing. Anxiety. Embarrassment. She’s so open at the moment she discovers him there. He’s knows that’s not her intention. He's experienced her natural ability to block some of what's in her mind first hand, but right now she's blown open like the overheated core of a reactor. Her intense and turbulent thoughts and feelings immediately spill into the space between them. He sees her emotions as tangible currents of energies in the air colliding - at war with each other.

Embarrassment ultimately wins and she starts to slowly remove her hand from her sex. He's suddenly overwhelmed with a odd sense of terror over the fact that she's not going to continue. He thinks it more terrifying than facing an enemy twice his might in battle. 

"No!" He winces at the sound of his desperation, but it does stop her hand from its slow retreat.

"Don't stop." He barks out. Like an order. She looks thrilled for a tiny moment, then pissed. Shit.

Right - he's a taker. And he can’t just take what he wants from her - not here, not now. His intention a moment ago was for this to be more about her and less about him - that's something he needs for her to understand. Desperately. However, he's also cataloging that tiny moment when she was thrilled at his demand. He doesn't think it degrading because he wouldn't mind her own demands of him - under the right circumstances. A few torrid scenarios he's previously conjured come to mind. Please command me, Rey. . . 

But back on track. . . 

Right now he needs to earn her trust. So he adds his plea. He finds himself kneeling next to her cot, not even knowing how he came to be across the room in the first place.

"Please." He speaks the word, he thinks the word, he feels the word knowing she'll feel it too.

She regards him carefully, cautiously. All is still while her eyes bore into his and he realizes they're both holding their breath. And just when he thinks he can bear the stillness no longer, she closes her eyes, lets the air out of her lungs and the slow massage beneath fabric of her undergarment resumes. Her writhing body just inches away from him. Her moans and gasps closer to his ears, the sweetest music he's ever heard. 

He takes his time to let his eyes roam over her body. Her pebbled nipples straining against the fabric of her tight shirt. The cloth of the garment has risen on her body from her efforts and her belly button peaks out from beneath the hem. Her hand props open her underwear slightly which gives him a tiny peak at some wisps of the tight curls surrounding her sex. The skin he can see between her legs not hidden by her clothing is slick with her excitement.

He tries to memorize the slight movements of her hand on her flesh and pictures his own fingers under the small scrap of damp cloth pleasuring her, making her moan and cry out. He's doesn't remember ever feeling the unrelenting passion he feels for her for anything else in his life. Some of his thoughts and feelings are so large and heavy they can't be contained. They leak from his mind unintentionally and she groans and her hips buck up hard into her hand. It races through her like a bolt of lightning to feel the effect she has on him. 

He needs to speak it. “Rey, you’re beautiful.”

Her eyes snap open. He hears a series of pops to his left followed by tiny, rapid tapping noises on the floor and realizes several food packages she had stacked on her desk have blown up. It sounds like the Takondoan sweet snack mixes he's noticed she's so fond have bit the dust.

She's obviously more wound up than when she discovered he was watching. He feels through the bond how overwhelming it is for her - having him there. Her thoughts pour into him like hot liquid - she was thinking about him before the bond opened. How his mouth would feel on her skin. How their bodies would feel tangled together. How his hand would feel in place of hers like he was just imagining. Fuck. He's so fucked. 

He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "S'okay.", he whispers. And he's not sure if he spoke it to reassure her or himself. She shakes her head. No. A memory flashes before his eyes - her memory. A boy. A kiss. Blood. Blood runs down the boy's face. 'It's you! You're doing this!' No. No - that can't be. 'Stay away from me!' She never sees him again. Alone. Can't hurt anyone. Must be alone. Always alone.

His heart drops like it weighs far too much for his body to contain. He feels as if the floor beneath him has suddenly disappeared and he's falling aimlessly as he experiences her pain as his own. He reaches out his right hand to intertwine his fingers with the fingers of her free hand and he palms the side of her face with his other.

"S’okay. You won't hurt me." He caresses her cheek with his thumb and then reaches out to counteract her grasp on the energy around them. The room stills and her eyes marvel at the sight. He feels a warmth spread across his chest that he can give her this, but her expression of wonder makes him feel as though she's the one giving him a gift - a priceless one.

He gently places his hand on her chest above her breasts. A lovely shade of red has spread across the expanse in her impassioned state. He almost expects his hand to be burned by the contact. As he lays his palm flat, she gasps at the cool touch to her heated skin. 

"You feel it here?" He speaks the words, but more of what he says is unsaid. The connection - the Force.

Her eyes widen. Yes. Yes, the Force. She understands. She nods.

He moves his hand to her stomach, just below her breasts. "And you feel it here?"

"Yes." It's the first word she's spoken aloud since the bond opened and it borders on a sob. A tear rolls down her cheek that he gently wipes away with his thumb. She's desperate for release. The naked vulnerability she’s letting him see touches him in places inside he thought were long-dead. She's opening her whole self up to him entirely. There's no First Order, no Resistance, no war. Just she and him. Rey. Ben.

"Let it go." 

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"You're trying to control it, but you need to let it go."

Understanding flashes across her features. He's shown her the places he feels most connected to the Force when he's so aroused as she is now. She closes her eyes and he feels her loosening her grip on what binds her to those energies. It feels like tethers of rope attached to a ship are being unfurled from a dock so it can sail out to sea.

"That's it - let it go." He strokes her hair lightly. He resists the urge to use any terms of endearment out loud like sweetheart or baby, but wonders if she'd like that. He can save that for later - if there is a later. Please, Maker, Force, Gods, whatever cosmic power or deities are out there, please let there be a later.

She resumes her sensual ministrations with her newfound freedom. She's a quick learner, but there are still parts of her holding onto the Force - parts that feel infused to that energy. She probably doesn't know what parts those are as she's feels as though she's been intrinsically bound to them her whole life, but she's let go enough that he's easily able to push back where she's pulling and pull where she's pushing. It's an erotic dance on its own.

Her breathing and movements become more rapid and he hears wet noises from parts of her soaked swollen flesh sliding against each other due to the quicker pace and pressure she's applying to her clit. 

"Open your eyes." He wants to see the look in her eyes when she comes. More than that, he wants her looking into his when she reaches her peak. Her eyes open slowly. She's gorgeous. Her eyes are nearly black from her dilated pupils - he only sees a hint of hazel green surrounding them. Her whole face is flushed and a thin sheen of sweat has developed on her forehead. She brings in knees closer to her chest and arches her back.

"Ah, ah. . . Ben. . . Oh, Ben. . ."

He opens up purposely then to show her exactly what he'd like to do to her sweet little body right now. Touch her the way she's touching herself, run his fingers through her slick folds, push them inside her tight, wet heat. And more. Acts she didn't even know people engaged in. When she's presented with the image of him running his long tongue over her swollen, glistening cunt, a startled noise escapes her mouth, already open in ecstasy, and she starts racing towards the edge of her release.

"Come for me, Rey. Let me see it." 

And she does. She shatters into a billion pieces and lets him see it all. Her passion. Her want. Her need. Raw and large. So thick and heavy he can no longer resist his own needs. He covers her mouth with his, swallowing her cries. It's not her first kiss, but it almost feels that way considering the pain she carries over her first. He wants to kiss her so thoroughly that the memory of whoever that fuckface was who ran off on her is erased from her brain. He kisses her without restraint, lips and teeth clashing, his tongue immediately plunging into her mouth to seek out hers. A kiss that feels like it should go on forever. They only separate when the need for air becomes necessary.

Their foreheads press together. Their heated breaths mingle as her trembling body recoups. She removes her quivering hand from her sex bringing it up to touch his face. He turns his head towards her fingers, intending to intercept with his mouth and taste her juices that coat them. Maker, how he's yearned to learn what she tastes like. 

And she's gone.

Just like that.

He's alone. Alone. Alone in his room on his knees looking at the floor. He stares at the space she just occupied in disbelief for several long minutes.

Gone is her sleek, flushed form. Gone are her lips swollen from his kisses and her hot breath against his cheek. Gone are her heated thoughts and feelings wrapping around him like warm swirls of heavy water. It's all gone. And he's alone. And harder than he's ever been in his life. 

And he doesn't think he's ever been more pissed either.

He doesn't know whether to jerk off or tear apart the room.

He opts for both. 

He lets out a furious cry while he leaps to his feet. His lightsaber flies from his work desk into his hand, ignites and the barely lit room is now reddened from the glow. In one fell swoop he slices the desk in half as well as the chair in front of it. The noise of the halved pieces crashing inward a strange comfort. He cuts into his bed several times, the sheets and mattress sizzle and pop. Next he stalks over to the control desk by the door. He takes his saber, points it downward and thrusts it into the helpless object. Sparks fly from the wound he's inflicted and the room gets redder as the lights go off until a second later when the dull emergency lights come on.

He then extinguishes the blade, situates himself on the floor, resting his back against what remains of his bed. He opens his pants and then carefully takes out his aching dick, hissing when it's exposed to the cool air. He doesn't think he's ever seen it in such a state. A bisterning red, bordering on purple. His cock looks as angry and vulnerable as he feels. It's covered in pre-cum that's been dribbling from the tip since the moment Rey's passion tore through his room. He takes himself in hand and furiously pumps himself to completion, which takes no longer than a minute.

It's fast. It's intense. It's. . .

Unsatisfying.

Rey.

She should be here. With him.

Frustration. He wallows over how little control he has over what's happening and his rage is useless against it. As his breath begins to even out and his pulse returns to normal, his brain can't help but draw parallels to what he just taught Rey and words his uncle often spoke during his Jedi training echo in his mind.

The greatest teachers do not only teach the apprentice, but the master learns from the apprentice through the act of teaching.

Despite all his bitterness towards his former master, he still believes those words to be true and wise. Ironically, the man who spoke them failed to learn the lesson he currently feels forced to ponder. Luke's attempts to exercise too much control over him failed. Ben's attempts to completely control this situation - to control her - fail. And when he thinks he has mastery over the Force too, the Force gives him a big middle finger by opening and closing the bond in its own time. He's not sure if he'll ever understand why the bond exists in the first place. Fail.

His mind goes over all the times the bond has connected them since she was last with him on the Supremacy. He thinks the best moments with her have been when they both just let things happen. There's push and pull, but it feels far more gentle and like it's after inadvertently tumbling into the moment. She pushes at him a little at a time to go towards the light and he pulls at her in equal amounts to join him in the dark. And in the spaces in between, they are content. An erotic dance, he thinks again. A sense of pride at this self-revelation spreads through him, but he also wants to punch himself in the face for his increasing sentimentality. Punch himself so hard his face caves in and he won't have to put up with this wacky shit anymore. He lets out a single dark chuckle at the thought.

Getting up and gathering his things to find the nearest empty bedroom to settle in for the night, he tries to shift his thoughts to his duties as the head of an empire. Something it seems far easier to control. He grabs his lightsaber. Then he grabs his datapad and his favorite pillow - items he spared in the rage he unleashed against his defenseless bedroom. He runs his fingers fondly along the edges of the datapad remembering how Rey accidentally whacked him in the back of his head with it and how they tumbled into ecstasy from that point. He compares it to the insane fondness he's developed over the scar she gave him in battle. He finds himself touching where she marked him more often as a comfort - a way to reel her into his thoughts. As if being hacked in the face with a lightsaber was some type of romantic gesture. It's wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. And yet it's so right.

Fuck. He's so fucked.


	3. Broken Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Force-Sensitives have a hard time engaging in sexual pleasure without causing chaos around them with the Force. Ben helps Rey to let go.
> 
> **************
> 
> Note in my timeline the following: Ben didn’t kill Han Solo, a knight named Fassik did; there was never any pursuit of the Resistance in TLJ and no Battle of Crait.
> 
> **************
> 
> Been a long time. Didn’t feel so confident writing, but trying :). Just gotta keep on keepin’ on, I suppose.

Fassik is a douche-nozzle.

Ben has always hated him - even before Fassik killed Han Solo, the man he used to call father.

How he wishes there were someone else here to spar with that was of better company.

_Rey_.

He thinks of sparring with her often.

Her fierce tenacity pitted against his methodical rage. There are so many things he could teach her if she’d just let him. And though he’d never admit it to her, he’s come to realize there are many things to learn from someone who's self-taught. No standards or restrictions to limit what you think you can and can’t do. There’s a raw poetry to it.

Yes, he thinks of sparring with her often.

And afterward they fuck like they thought the galaxy would end tomorrow. 

But not before he eats her out. He's never done this to a woman - never had the desire. But what he wouldn’t do watch her come apart while he works his lips and tongue over the scarred place between her legs.

Most times he pictures doing this with a slowness that will make her ache and moan deliciously. He’d make sure her inner thighs are thoroughly covered in kisses and licks first.

Other times he imagines his mouth merciless on her sex. Making her come again and again, until she's so sensitive she begs him to stop. Her sweaty body boneless, panting. Her sex swollen, red, glistening from the combination of her body's wetness and his saliva. This time when he fucks her it's slowly, tenderly, only speeding up when he feels their mutual release near.

Those are the times when he's won the fight. 

There are other scenarios where she wins and she ultimately celebrates her triumph by pushing him on his back and mounting him. She rides his cock hard and fast, her body hot and glowing with pride from her victory and this is her prize. Her sweet, little breasts bouncing from her efforts. Her arms steadying her body by bracing his shoulders, her nails painfully press into his skin. Sure to leave marks and he wants that. Mark me, Rey, I'm yours. 

Every detail of his recent experience with her has been burned into his brain for eternity - especially the sweet sound of his name on her lips as she fell apart.

She calls him Ben - refuses to call him anything but. 

He recalls the last time he told her Ben is dead, that the name held no weight any longer. Suddenly her face was in his. Her arms thrust behind her, fists clenched, chin thrust forward in defiance. She told him, Ben, that's your name, Ben, and that's what I'm going to call you - Ben, Ben, Ben! And he couldn't help but burst out laughing by her juvenile and stubborn display.

He started to think maybe he could be Ben - just for her. Just in this tiny little corner of the universe where the Force has connected them. This place where she tells him tales about things she found in the wreckages of the Battle of Jakku. She beams with pride as she describes little imperial droids she made work again. The broken things she made whole again.

It’s frightening how the hours and minutes of his days are increasingly consumed by thoughts of her. He pictures engaging in the most mundane of tasks with her or with her nearby.

He yearns for the simple act of just enjoying a meal with her. He's noticed her fondness for desserts and he'd like to ply her with sweet, exotic delicacies she has yet to discover. Her appetite is surprisingly voracious considering her slim figure and she's unrestrained while she consumes her meals. One particular time the bond opened while she was stuffing her face full of jogan fruit cakes. She froze in mid-chew staring at him. At the time he was on the bridge of his ship and he couldn't help the small flicker of a smile that crossed his serious features. Her cheeks were bulging, purple juice running down her face, dotting the front of her shirt, cake crumbs stuck to her lips. She was a mess. She was beautiful.

Distracted by the memory while sparring, Fassik delivers a blow with his staff to Ben’s chest and he falters backwards landing on his ass.

Fassik sneers over him. "Ah! The Jedi!"

Ben is mortified - his thoughts have betrayed him. Slipped out. 

“She makes you weak. You should use every weapon at your disposal to rid yourself of her.”

Fassik grins and Ben unleashes an attack on him the likes of which even surprises himself until he has him pinned in a corner with his staff pressed against his jugular.

_Who's the weak one now, fuckface?_

As he slowly pushes his staff further against Fassik’s throat delighting in his choked gasps and bulging wide eyes, an alarm goes off.

Ben withdraws his weapon and yells, “Report!”

“Supreme Leader, there’s a attack on our armory on the planet below.”

**********************************

She's here. The Resistance is raiding this armory for weapons and she’s here. Ben breaks off from the knights and troops he landed with and panic flows through him as he searches the the wood near the tunnels that lead to the munitions store. As he nears a clearing, he sees the Falcon and three other smaller ships surrounded by rebels guarding their getaway. 

Ben stays far enough out of their sight. When he hears the distant sound of sabers clashing from inside the armory, he manages to slip quietly into a rear tunnel.

As he’s rounding the first corner, he sees some thirty feet away Rey lying unconscious on the floor and Fassik stands above her with his saber ready to deal a blow that will surely kill her, if she’s not dead already.

Ben hurls his saber and it slices into Fassik’s neck, nearly decapitating him, and his lifeless body falls to the floor with a thud.

Ben runs to hover over Rey and removes his helmet and gloves. With trembling fingers he checks her neck for a pulse. It was unnecessary as he could already see her chest cavity rising and falling slowly, but still he feels this reassurance. The tangibility of her steady heartbeat at his fingertips. It’s then that he realizes that someone else is nearby.

Thirty feet down the tunnel, Rey’s comrade, the traitor stormtrooper is watching - the one she calls Finn. His eyes are wide in disbelief and confusion, blaster in hand hanging by his side. Before the former trooper can react, Ben is on his feet, hand extended and the now helpless man flies towards Ben. Finn hangs in the air a foot away from Ben, floating immobilized.

“You will forget what you saw in this tunnel and bring Rey safely to the Falcon and leave this planet.”

Finn’s face goes from frozen terror to slack at this.

“And you will protect Rey from all harm no matter the cost.”

Finn nods dumbly and he slowly floats to standing on the ground. Ben carefully picks up Rey and gives her to Finn.

“Go.”

Ben watches until Finn has turned a corner out-of-sight.

Looking down at Fassik now, he feels a slight pang of guilt. He’s murdered one of his own knights - not for power or profit, but to save Rey. His motivation even more glaringly obvious to himself than when he killed Snoke.

On the other hand, he says to himself he’s Kylo Fucking Ren, the Supreme Fucking Leader and he’ll dispose of whomever he wishes.

And the guy was a douche-nozzle anyway.


	4. At All Costs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Force-Sensitives have a hard time engaging in sexual pleasure without causing chaos around them with the Force. Ben helps Rey to let go.
> 
> **************
> 
> Note in my timeline the following: Ben didn’t kill Han Solo, a knight named Fassik did; there was never any pursuit of the Resistance in TLJ and no Battle of Crait.

Her voice sounds a little scratchy. She’s furious. “What the hell did you do to Finn?” 

“Who?”

“My friend who was on the planet with me.”

“The traitor?”

“Yes, I mean, no. His name is Finn!”

“I instructed him to bring you to safety.”

“And?”

“Aaaand. . . nothing more.”

_Lie_. 

And she knows it. 

She’s obviously been able to pull some information from the traitor’s mind - at the very least his use of the Force on Finn. However, from what he's seen her comrades are already protective of her and she of them. He didn't think it would be much different from the way things are already. What the fuck is this?

He attempts to tread lightly. 

“I may have told him to keep you safe. . . at all costs.”

“What?? You may have?”

"I may have."

"Why?"

“Whadaya mean why?” How could she not know why by now?

“I mean. . . I mean. . .” She does know why - so what's the problem?

There's a knock at the door. 

“Rey, are you in there?” It's the traitor. "Rey, are you awake?"

“I’m letting him in. . .", she points one finger at the door and then another at Ben, ". . . and you have to fix this.”

She opens the door to Finn standing on the other side holding a small towel wrapped around a steaming bowl of soup. He steps into the room and a BB-8 unit rolls around in front of Finn, from one of it's arm extensions is a box of tissues. 

“Rey! I know it’s the middle of the night, but I was so worried about that cold you caught so I brought you some Yakran soup and some extra tissues if you need them.”

“I’m fine, Finn.” She takes the bowl of soup and sets it on her nightstand.

"Are you sure? Because you were so stuffed up at lunch and then I didn't see you at dinner and Rose said you stayed in your room during dinner. Did you try that vapor rub I gave you? It really works well when I'm stuffed up and you should really eat some of that Yakran soup while it's hot. Hey, how's that shelf I fixed over your bed? It really looked like it could've fallen on your head and. . . "

Ben starts to realize the critical error he's made. He’s used his powers with the Force to turn the traitor into an overbearing mother to Rey. OK - so maybe he didn’t think things through well enough on the planet. However, he can't help but find the former stormtrooper's henpecking humorous and he unintentionally lets out a snort.

She shoots him an angry look and grabs Finn by the wrist. “Come over here, Finn.” Rey guides him over to stand in front of Ben, except he turns to face her and reaches out with his hand to feel her forehead. 

“You look flushed, Rey. Do you have a fever?”

She swats his hand away and turns him to face Ben. “Face that way.”

At the same time, the BB-8 unit rolls over next to Finn to face the same way.

“What? What am I looking at?”

Both Finn's head and the BB-8's head are swiveling back and forth searching for something they can't see. From this, he imagines they're both looking at a wall - nothing but a big, blank fucking wall. Rey looks at Ben and nods her head in Finn's direction.

Ben reaches out his hand, hovering a few inches from Finn’s forehead. He closes his eyes and feels. . . nothing. The only presence he feels through the bond is hers - Rey's sweet, kind, pissed-off presence.

“I don’t fell anything.”

“Whadaya mean you don’t feel anything? You can see and hear him, right?”

"I can smell too - what the hell is in that soup?"

She glares at him.

"Point being I don't feel him through the bond. I only feel you. If I can't feel him, I can't do anything"

"That doesn't make any sense!" 

He chuckles darkly at that. When did this bond ever make any sense? What cosmic power thought randomly connecting two arch-nemiseses across time and space was a swell idea? Right - the Force. Yay, Force. Bringing him closer to the last woman in the galaxy he should get close to personally. Fuck. He's so fucked.

Meanwhile, the traitor is going into an overprotective fit of maternal proportions. “What are you talking about, Rey? Who are you talking to? Are you sure you don't have a fever?” Finn once again attempts to place his hand on Rey's forehead. Only she's already struggling to fend him off and she ends up with Finn's whole hand covering her face before she swats it away.

“Phfffftt! Stop it, Finn! Look, I really need some rest with this cold, so I’m gonna have some of that delicious smelling soup and then go to sleep, alright?” 

“OK, but if you need me, I’m right down the hall.”

She smiles gently and gives him an affectionate hug and Ben's humor over the situation is washed away by jealousy. She should be hugging him like that. He wants that hug. That hug is his. He wants that smile too. That smile is his. That's his hug and his smile. 

Once she manages to finally get Finn out the door with the BB-8 unit, she turns back to Ben, hands on hips.

“He’s been following me around for the last two days like that. This morning he broke down the door to the fresher because he heard me yelp.”

OK, humor is back. 

But he's not a total dick and has some concern, “Were you hurt?”

“No, I just had a tangle in my hair.”

“Oh.” Yeah, it’s funny - definitely funny.

“I was just out of the shower and half-naked!”

Oh - he didn’t like that. No - not funny. The traitor should not see his Rey in such a state. Fresh from the shower. Her body all warm and relaxed, her skin pink and pliant. He imagines she’d hum a soft soothing tune as she languidly worked out the tangles from her damp, dark tresses. Droplets of water freed from her hair in the process land on her chest and. . .

“Are you listening to me?!?”

"Yes." No. No, he's wasn't. What did she say after half-naked?

"You have to fix this! We have to meet somewhere and you have to fix this!"

Meet somewhere? Yes! Who knew such an epic blunder would have this kind of pay-off? 

Wait - the traitor would have to come with her. His bubble is burst as quick as it was blown. 

"That will prove difficult."

"I don't care how difficult it will prove! You need to fix him!"

Soooooo. . . how to work this so he gets some time with her alone without sounding like a total asshole?

"What do I get in exchange for meeting you?"

"What?!? You caused this mess!"

OK - so he's a total asshole. Might as well go for broke.

"I saved your life." 

She glares at him.

"Twice." 

Glare intensifies. He imagines the normal reaction she receives from this look is a withering of her opponent. Not him. He'd be all over her right now if he was sure the bond wouldn't fizzle out. Plus he's pretty sure Finn will be back relatively soon - probably with a humidifier.

"You've tried to kill me!"

He leans in until his lips are mere inches from hers. "I would never kill you.", he whispers.

Her face softens remarkably as if it's one of the most romantic things she's ever heard. He decides he wants that from her too. He wants to whisper more things to her and watch how she softens for him. 

"What do you want?"

"Dinner."

"Dinner?" 

"Dinner."

"You. . . you want me to bring you food?"

Aggravation. He bites back the urge to be sarcastic. Yes, Rey, I want you to travel half-way across the galaxy to bring me some of those craptastic Resistance rations.

"No. I want to have dinner with you. Alone."

She stills except for her eyes, which seem to travel everywhere around the room except to him and she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. He wants to tell her to stop, he can do that for her. 

Finally, she takes a deep breath and looks him in the eye.

"Where?"

_Holy kriff, yes._

“In four days, go to Laschtu. When you’re in orbit, contact me on channel RB-20111.0.”

"What am I supposed to do about Finn when I'm there after you fix him?"

"You're a clever girl - you'll figure something out."

As the bond fades, he hears a knock at her door.

"Rey, I bought you my humidifier and some extra blankets."

He hears an aggravated groan in response.

Yeah, it's funny - definitely funny.


End file.
